One Kiss
by Forgotten Daydream
Summary: Nick tries to further his friendship with Sara, but with disastrous consequences. Will she ever forgive him? Finished
1. Breakfast Time

It's almost the end of your shift. You're sitting at your computer, watching CODIS run, waiting for a match.

"Sara?" Nick interrupts you. "Are you coming? We're going out for breakfast."

You frown, and remember that it's Wednesday. Wednesday means team breakfast. You sigh.

"Yeah, I'll be five minutes," you say and pull yourself away from the computer. You go to your locker, grab your stuff and trail after the others. They've already ordered by the time you get there. Nick pats a space next to him, and you drop yourself into the seat. The others nod in your direction, and continue with their conversation.

"What are they talking about?" you ask Nick.

"Dunno," he says, "But I'm surprised you managed to drag yourself away from your case to be here."

You roll your eyes. "I come here every week, don't I?" you argue.

"True," he admits, "But you're always late, and always grumbling how the time could be better spent on your case."

"I'm not now," you say, warming up to the argument.

"Yeah, that's only because your case is at a dead end," he says, grinning.

"Not necessarily," you shoot back.

"Hey, look," Nick says, and points, "food!"

"You're just changing the subject," you protest.

He laughs.

"You know you only did that because you knew you'd lose," you say, smiling.

"Hey!" he exclaims, forgetting about the plate in front of him, "that's not true!"

Eventually your food arrives as well. You start talking about how at college you had to waitress all the way through so you could pay for the fees. He doesn't notice that you've changed the subject at first and he starts talking about his college jobs. He's lifting his fork up to his mouth when he suddenly frowns.

"Hey," he says, "Weren't we talking about something else before?" he continues, poking his fork in the air.

You can't help but grin.

"And you were losing the argument?" he asks, waving his fork around. His food falls off onto his plate, splattering tomato sauce everywhere

"It was an animated discussion," you say, trying to hold back laughter

He appears not to have noticed the tomato sauce everywhere, but the team is watching him, trying to hold back laughter.

"How did you change the subject like that?" he asks, confused, "How come when I changed the subject, you immediately noticed, but when you did, I didn't?"

"I used to be a debater in college," you say.

"Oh," he says. Then he notices everyone looking at him, grinning.

"What?" he asks defensively. Then he sees his plate, his shirt, the table.

"How did that…" he starts to ask, and then looks at the fork in his hand.

"Oh," he says, looking deflated.

The team bursts into laugher, you included.

After that, work seems, well, slightly bland. You ask yourself what happened. This used to be what you lived for. But it doesn't appear so right now. The shifts drag on like they never have before. You find yourself looking forward to Wednesday.


	2. A Confidant

You're glad it's almost the end of another shift. Monday, that's almost Wednesday. You sit down in the locker room. It's quiet here-no electronic beeping, no shouting, none of Greg's loud rock music. You close your eyes and lean against the locker doors. When you open your eyes you see Nick, right in front of you. You jump.

"Oh, I didn't mean to startle you," he apologises.

"You didn't," you lie. "I just didn't realise you were so close."

"Come on," Nick says suddenly. "Let's escape."

"Huh?" you say.

"I've had enough," he says, "and by the look of things, so have you."

"No." You instantly refuse. "I've got to get back to my work."

"It'll still be here when we get back," Nick says, "No one else will touch it. Come on, when's the last time you had a little bit of time just for you?"

"Fine," you say, and push yourself up off the bench, "where are we going?"

"Same as Wednesdays," he says.

At first you're a bit worried to just walk out, without telling anyone. But as soon as you get out, you smile a little bit. Nick grins in reply. You realise how ridiculous you both must look, just grinning away, and you start laughing. After a second, Nick starts to laugh a little as well. You stop outside the diner to breathe and Nick looks at you.

"What were we laughing at anyway?" he asks.

"Us," you reply.

You see him roll his eyes.

He agrees to breakfast the next morning as well. Well, he agrees. You try to refuse but he just ignores you, of course.

"Sara," Nick calls through the door in a sing-song voice.

"What?" you snap at him.

"Put your stuff down, you need a break," he says. "Remember?"

"I've just got this little bit to go," you argue.

"And after that, you'll just want to do this, then that," he retorts, "Come on, you need a coffee."

"Why can't you just make me one here then?" you ask him, enjoying this argument.

He doesn't answer, he just walks over to you and pulls your arm.

"Hey!" you exclaim, as you try to anchor yourself to the table.

He pokes you in the ribs, and you jump. Nick grabs your arms and pulls you out the door. By then you're both laughing and everyone else is watching you.

"I need to get my bag," you say between laughs.

"It's on me," he says.

"No," you argue, pushing your heels into the ground.

"Uh-uh," he says, laughing and pulling you along.

"Just let me get my stuff," you say, yanking him in the opposite direction.

"Fine, fine," he says. "But I'm still paying."

You roll your eyes. You're not about to go out on a date; you don't need to him to act the gentleman.

You get to the front door. "Race?" he asks you.

"You want to lose?" you ask, as you start running.

Nick beats you, but not by much. So much for the gentleman, you think to yourself, a real gentleman would have let me win.

"Whaddya want?" Nick asks.

"Coffee," you say.

"Yeah, but what else?" he asks impatiently.

"Nothing," you say.

"Pancakes it is then," he says, grinning.

"Nick!" you exclaim, but he just ignores you, so you go and sit down at your favourite seat by the window.

You see Nick looking for you, and eventually he sits down opposite you.

"I knew you'd be here," he says.

"Then why didn't you come here first?" you counter him.

He throws up his hands. "I can't win, can I?" he asks.

"Nope," you say smiling. You turn and look out the window.

Nick is quiet for a few moments.

Then, "Aha!" he exclaims, "I've worked out why you like this seat!"

"What's your theory then?" you ask him.

"It goes like this," he explains, "you sit opposite to me so you can admire my beauty, and then when you look out the window, you realise just how handsome I am compared to the rest of the world," he finishes

You throw a paper napkin at him, but he just laughs. "I'll give you an F," you say.

"Okay, what's your reason then? Do you just like watching the world go by?" he asks.

You shake your head. "No," you say, "I look out the window to remind myself that not everyone ends up on Doc Robbin's table."

He nods, understanding perfectly.

Breakfast with him becomes a regular event. Sometimes you discuss the cases you're working on. Sometimes not. It's nice to have someone you can talk with so easily. Someone you can trust. Even if you're not talking, it's nice just to eat in comfortable silence and know that you don't have to talk. You've missed having someone like him to confide in.


	3. One Fateful Morning

"Oh, Nick," you ask one morning, "Would you be able to drop me off at the bus stop? My car's getting repaired."

"I can drop you off at your apartment," he offers.

"No," you say, "that's fine."

"It's nothing," he says.

You want to argue with him, but you're too tired. You get in the car, and you direct him to your apartment. He tries to start a conversation, but you don't want to talk. He leaves it, and you're glad for that.

"Just there," you say.

He pulls over, jumps out of the car to run around and open your door. You roll your eyes, but you're too tired to poke fun at him playing the gentleman and so you get out.

You take a few steps, yawn, and almost fall over. Nick is there, holding you up, almost instantly.

"Tired, are we?" he asks, arching his eyebrows.

"No," you deny, then yawn and stretch.

"Come on," he says, gently leading you up the steps.

"I don't need you to hold me up," you say.

"I don't want you to fall over," he replies.

He gets you to the front door, and you get out the keys.

"I'm fine now," you say, "I'm here now."

He looks at you suspiciously.

"I'm fine!" you protest.

"Okay then," he says, "Make sure you get some sleep."

He tucks a curl behind your ear, his fingers stroking your face gently. You're too surprised to move.

He leans in and, before you know it he's kissing you. You pull back, away from him.

He doesn't say anything as you look at him, he doesn't need to. His face expresses what words don't and what words can't.

"No," you say. "I can't." You leave it at that and turn away from him, unlocking the door into the foyer.

He doesn't call your name as you go through the door. He doesn't ask why.

Before you start going up the stairs, you take a quick look back outside. He's still standing there. You turn away quickly, before he has the chance to see your backward glance.


	4. Why

One Kiss

It's almost the end of your shift. You're sitting at your computer, watching CODIS run, waiting for a match.

"Sara?" Nick interrupts you. "Are you coming? We're going out for breakfast."

You frown, and remember that it's Wednesday. Wednesday means team breakfast. You sigh.

"Yeah, I'll be five minutes," you say and pull yourself away from the computer. You go to your locker, grab your stuff and trail after the others. They've already ordered by the time you get there. Nick pats a space next to him, and you drop yourself into the seat. The others nod in your direction, and continue with their conversation.

"What are they talking about?" you ask Nick.

"Dunno," he says, "But I'm surprised you managed to drag yourself away from your case to be here."  
You roll your eyes. "I come here every week, don't I?" you argue.

"True," he admits, "But you're always late, and always grumbling how the time could be better spent on your case."

"I'm not now," you say, warming up to the argument.

"Yeah, that's only because your case is at a dead end," he says, grinning.

"Not necessarily," you shoot back.

"Hey, look," Nick says, and points, "food!"

"You're just changing the subject," you protest.

He laughs.

"You know you only did that because you knew you'd lose," you say, smiling.

"Hey!" he exclaims, forgetting about the plate in front of him, "that's not true!"

Eventually your food arrives as well. You start talking about how at college you had to waitress all the way through so you could pay for the fees. He doesn't notice that you've changed the subject at first and he starts talking about his college jobs. He's lifting his fork up to his mouth when he suddenly frowns.

"Hey," he says, "Weren't we talking about something else before?" he continues, poking his fork in the air.

You can't help but grin.

"And you were losing the argument?" he asks, waving his fork around. His food falls off onto his plate, splattering tomato sauce everywhere

"It was an animated discussion," you say, trying to hold back laughter

He appears not to have noticed the tomato sauce everywhere, but the team is watching him, trying to hold back laughter.

"How did you change the subject like that?" he asks, confused, "How come when I changed the subject, you immediately noticed, but when you did, I didn't?"

"I used to be a debater in college," you say.

"Oh," he says. Then he notices everyone looking at him, grinning.

"What?" he asks defensively. Then he sees his plate, his shirt, the table.

"How did that…" he starts to ask, and then looks at the fork in his hand.

"Oh," he says, looking deflated.

The team bursts into laugher, you included.

After that, work seems, well, slightly bland. You ask yourself what happened. This used to be what you lived for. But it doesn't appear so right now. The shifts drag on like they never have before. You find yourself looking forward to Wednesday.

You're glad it's almost the end of another shift. Monday, that's almost Wednesday. You sit down in the locker room. It's quiet here-no electronic beeping, no shouting, none of Greg's loud rock music. You close your eyes and lean against the locker doors. When you open your eyes you see Nick, right in front of you. You jump.

"Oh, I didn't mean to startle you," he apologises.

"You didn't," you lie. "I just didn't realise you were so close."

"Come on," Nick says suddenly. "Let's escape."

"Huh?" you say.

"I've had enough," he says, "and by the look of things, so have you."

"No." You instantly refuse. "I've got to get back to my work."

"It'll still be here when we get back," Nick says, "No one else will touch it. Come on, when's the last time you had a little bit of time just for you?"

"Fine," you say, and push yourself up off the bench, "where are we going?"

"Same as Wednesdays," he says.

At first you're a bit worried to just walk out, without telling anyone. But as soon as you get out, you smile a little bit. Nick grins in reply. You realise how ridiculous you both must look, just grinning away, and you start laughing. After a second, Nick starts to laugh a little as well. You stop outside the diner to breathe and Nick looks at you.

"What were we laughing at anyway?" he asks.

"Us," you reply.

You see him roll his eyes.

He agrees to breakfast the next morning as well. Well, he agrees. You try to refuse but he just ignores you, of course.

"Sara," Nick calls through the door in a sing-song voice.

"What?" you snap at him.

"Put your stuff down, you need a break," he says. "Remember?"

"I've just got this little bit to go," you argue.

"And after that, you'll just want to do this, then that," he retorts, "Come on, you need a coffee."  
"Why can't you just make me one here then?" you ask him, enjoying this argument.

He doesn't answer, he just walks over to you and pulls your arm.

"Hey!" you exclaim, as you try to anchor yourself to the table.

He pokes you in the ribs, and you jump. Nick grabs your arms and pulls you out the door. By then you're both laughing and everyone else is watching you.

"I need to get my bag," you say between laughs.

"It's on me," he says.

"No," you argue, pushing your heels into the ground.

"Uh-uh," he says, laughing and pulling you along.

"Just let me get my stuff," you say, yanking him in the opposite direction.

"Fine, fine," he says. "But I'm still paying."  
You roll your eyes. You're not about to go out on a date; you don't need to him to act the gentleman.

You get to the front door. "Race?" he asks you.

"You want to lose?" you ask, as you start running.

Nick beats you, but not by much. So much for the gentleman, you think to yourself, a real gentleman would have let me win.

"Whaddya want?" Nick asks.

"Coffee," you say.

"Yeah, but what else?" he asks impatiently.

"Nothing," you say.

"Pancakes it is then," he says, grinning.

"Nick!" you exclaim, but he just ignores you, so you go and sit down at your favourite seat by the window.

You see Nick looking for you, and eventually he sits down opposite you.

"I knew you'd be here," he says.

"Then why didn't you come here first?" you counter him.

He throws up his hands. "I can't win, can I?" he asks.

"Nope," you say smiling. You turn and look out the window.

Nick is quiet for a few moments.

Then, "Aha!" he exclaims, "I've worked out why you like this seat!"

"What's your theory then?" you ask him.

"It goes like this," he explains, "you sit opposite to me so you can admire my beauty, and then when you look out the window, you realise just how handsome I am compared to the rest of the world," he finishes

You throw a paper napkin at him, but he just laughs. "I'll give you an F," you say.

"Okay, what's your reason then? Do you just like watching the world go by?" he asks.

You shake your head. "No," you say, "I look out the window to remind myself that not everyone ends up on Doc Robbin's table."

He nods, understanding perfectly.

Breakfast with him becomes a regular event. Sometimes you discuss the cases you're working on. Sometimes not. It's nice to have someone you can talk with so easily. Someone you can trust. Even if you're not talking, it's nice just to eat in comfortable silence and know that you don't have to talk. You've missed having someone like him to confide in.

"Oh, Nick," you ask one morning, "Would you be able to drop me off at the bus stop? My car's getting repaired."

"I can drop you off at your apartment," he offers.

"No," you say, "that's fine."

"It's nothing," he says.

You want to argue with him, but you're too tired. You get in the car, and you direct him to your apartment. He tries to start a conversation, but you don't want to talk. He leaves it, and you're glad for that.

"Just there," you say.

He pulls over, jumps out of the car to run around and open your door. You roll your eyes, but you're too tired to poke fun at him playing the gentleman and so you get out.

You take a few steps, yawn, and almost fall over. Nick is there, holding you up, almost instantly.

"Tired, are we?" he asks, arching his eyebrows.

"No," you deny, then yawn and stretch.

"Come on," he says, gently leading you up the steps.

"I don't need you to hold me up," you say.

"I don't want you to fall over," he replies.

He gets you to the front door, and you get out the keys.

"I'm fine now," you say, "I'm here now."

He looks at you suspiciously.

"I'm fine!" you protest.

"Okay then," he says, "Make sure you get some sleep."

He tucks a curl behind your ear, his fingers stroking your face gently. You're too surprised to move.

He leans in and, before you know it he's kissing you. You pull back, away from him.

He doesn't say anything as you look at him, he doesn't need to. His face expresses what words don't and what words can't.

"No," you say. "I can't." You leave it at that and turn away from him, unlocking the door into the foyer.

He doesn't call your name as you go through the door. He doesn't ask why.

Before you start going up the stairs, you take a quick look back outside. He's still standing there. You turn away quickly, before he has the chance to see your backward glance.

He doesn't come ask you if you want to go to breakfast with him the next day, or the day after. When you all go for breakfast as a team, you're careful not to sit near him. You try to make sure you're never left alone with him. If you're on a case with him, you stick to talking about the case. You know the others notice the strain between you and him, even though they don't say anything. Days pass and he doesn't even make an attempt to have a conversation with you. One day, near the end of the shift, you're waiting around for your DNA to come through. It's the same as any other day, any other shift. Until he comes along.

"Hey," he says awkwardly, "You want to go out for breakfast?"

"Well," you say, startled, "I'm just waiting for this to give to Grissom,"  
"I'll give it to him," Greg offers.

You're cornered. You can't say no. "Okay then," you reluctantly agree.

You walk silently together to your old haunt. The conversation fades away uncomfortably. He says something about the weather, and you wish you could go back in time, back to when you didn't need to converse about the weather, back to when the silences were comfortable.

You order, sit down and wait.

"Sara," he says suddenly, "why did you turn away?"

You don't need any clarification. You know what he's talking about, and it's not really a great surprise. You knew that eventually this would come up.

"I couldn't," you say simply.

"But why?" he asks again, persistently.

"Look," you say, getting angry, "I don't want to talk about this!"

He decides not to press you any further, and the awkward silence blankets you.

Your food arrives, and you both eat without speaking, apart from him asking for the salt. You hand it to him and he accidentally brushes your hand as he takes it from you.

"Sorry," he says as you look up.

You raise your eyebrows at him, and turn back to your food.

He finishes before you and waits for you to finish as well. You wouldn't have waited for him, but he thinks he's a gentleman.  
He offers to pay and you refuse him. No one ever pays for you.

He hands you your coat off the coat stand. You mutter a thanks and goodbye, and stalk off without him, even though he's going to the same place as you.

"Sara," he calls,

"What?" you snap, and stop and turn to glare at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"What kind of a question is that?" you ask in reply.

"Um, well," he mumbles under your glare, "I just thought that you didn't look so good."

"I'm fine," you retort, and continue on your way.

He quickly hurries after you. "Well, that's good then. I was just checking," he says.

You ignore him and continue walking.

Males, you think. Why would you ever bother trusting one? Why would you bother to try to talk with them or make them understand? You consider asking Nick, and stifle a snort. It wouldn't do you any good for him to hear you giggling to yourself. He already worries about you.

You reach the car park.

"See you," he says and waves.

You just get into your car and drive off.

He starts avoiding you. He'll leave the room if you're the only two people there. Grissom puts you on a case together, and you can see Nick squirm under your glare. It amuses you that all that you have to do to make him uncomfortable is catch his eye. Nick sticks to talking about the case with you. You don't care. You don't care if people notice the distance between the two of you. You don't care that now he always leaves before you at anything involving the whole team, be it briefings or just the breakfast on Wednesdays.

It occurs to you that this is how it was before he tried to take you out for breakfast again and made that fatal mistake of asking why, except you've swapped roles.

One day you're sitting down with the team at breakfast. As is the normal now, Nick leaves early, giving some excuse.

Catherine, Warrick and Greg exchange glances. Brass looks up from his conversation with Grissom to see Nick's back going out the door. He looks at his watch.

"I'd better get going to," he says.

Grissom looks at his watch too.

"Yeah, me too," he adds.

They leave money on the table for their meals, and leave together.

Catherine, Warrick and Greg turn their eyes back to you.

"What?" you ask defensively.

"Sara," Catherine says, "What are you playing at?"  
Now you're confused. "What do you mean?" you say.

Her voice is sharp. "I think you know what I'm talking about," she says.

"Yeah," Warrick says, "What's going on with you and Nick?"

"Nothing!" you exclaim, "It's what he's done to me!"

"But what did you do to start it?" Greg asks. "I know Nick," he says, "and this isn't like him at all. He's just a ghost of who he was."

"I didn't do anything, he started it!" you say angrily, realising too late how childish you sound. "Besides," you add, "It's none of your business." You pack up your things, drop some money on the table, and storm out of the diner.

You come to work that evening and hunt out Nick as soon as you get there. You find him in the staff room, drinking coffee.

"What you do you think you're doing, telling the others about everything?" you ask him.

He looks up in surprise.

"Why have you got the others to back you up? You're an adult, you can stand up for yourself!" you say spitefully.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, standing up to face you.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" you say, getting angrier, "They were asking me this morning what I'd done to you. What I'd done to you?" you ask, "It's not what I've done to you, it's what you've done to me!"

"I didn't do anything," he says, acting confused.

"Really?" you challenge him. "Have you blocked out that morning when you tried to kiss me, and I refused? Have you blocked out the morning when you asked me why I refused you, and me not telling you why?"

"Sara," he pleads, "please, calm down."

You shake your head. "Trying to ignore the question?" you ask nastily.

"No, but Sara…" he argues.

"Nick," you exclaim. "Why did you tell them? It's none of their business!"  
He looks at me sadly. "I didn't say anything to anyone Sara," he whispers.

You blink. You should have realised that, but you let the anger get the better of you. You see everyone standing outside the staffroom, their mouths open. They see you looking at them, and they all hurry back to work.

Now everyone's avoiding you, instead of just Nick. You're defiant, and still look at everyone in the eye, until they hang their heads or look away. It's nice not being pestered all the time and knowing that wherever you go it'll be quiet, because everyone will leave if you come in. But after a while, it starts to get a bit lonely. You can't bear to admit it at first; you're too full of pride. You start wanting someone to talk to, not about anything serious, just everyday events. You know you're not in the wrong, but for the others to accept you again, you'll have to say that you were, and your pride won't let you do that.

One morning you're staring at a sheet, just a plain white cotton bed sheet, trying to look for anything out of the ordinary.You take off your gloves and rub your eyes. Suddenly you remember it's Wednesday. Wednesday means team breakfast. You look around. Everyone's left already-and nobody's told you to hurry up, that you'll be late again. You pack your stuff up and walk to the diner. When you get there you see them all through the window sitting at a table, laughing, and enjoying themselves. Nick looks the best you've seen him in a while. He looks… well… normal. You go in, and don't bother to order. You're not hungry. You walk up to the table where they're sitting. They look up.

"Oh, hey Sara," Warrick says. "I thought someone reminded you."

You shake your head, and wait for someone to budge along, to make room for you. But no-one does. You sigh, and bring over a chair to squeeze at one end.

"You got any food?" Catherine asks.

"Uh uh," you say, "I'm not hungry."

"Don't get hungry and ask for any of mine later then," she replies curtly, and returns to her converstion with Nick

You lean back into your chair. The talk is less passionate now that you've arrived, less exciting. No one's laughing, no one's having fun. Least of all you. You try to join in some conversations, but no one really responds to you. You sigh, and lean back into your chair. As soon as you think it's polite to do so, you leave. No one will have noticed, you think bitterly to yourself. And if they did, they'll be the happier for it.

You scuff your feet as you trudge your way back to your car. They didn't remind you to come to the team breakfast, whereas a few months ago they were teasing you about being late. They didn't make room for you to sit down, whereas they used to squish up for you. Catherine didn't care you weren't eating, when a few months ago she would have been force-feeding you. After you got there the conversation lost its enthusiasm, but it used to get better after you arrived.

You get into your car and drive home.

The next week is the same. Everyone's still avoiding you. Some have taken to frowning you pass by them. This week you decide to be on time to the team breakfast. But apart from having a seat, everything is exactly the same. Stunted conversation. You leave early. You can't take it anymore.

Each night you go to work, and set about doing your job. You don't let the others distract you and you don't take many breaks- you want to avoid everyone as much as possible. The next Wednesday you see them leaving, laughing and smiling. You sigh, and lean back into your chair. It's got to change, you tell yourself. You can't be like this forever. Alienated by your colleagues, who used to be your friends. Your only friends. You can't be friendless forever. Even Grissom, the man who convinced you to move to Vegas, hasn't said anything. Man, you think, why did I even bother.

The white envelope sits in your locker, glaring at you. You stand at your locker door, and slowly take it out and hold it in your hands, to give to Grissom. "I can't lose one of my best CSI's," you can imagine him saying. You sigh, and lean against the door. You look out through the window in the door into the lab. You spy Nick coming to the door, and hurriedly put the envelope back in your pocket. He's the last person you want knowing. But it's the perfect opportunity for you to ask him what's going on.

"Hi," you say.

"Hey," he says stiffly.

"Nick," you say.

"What?" he asks.

You take a deep breath. "I want to sort this out," you say.

"Sort what out?" he asks.

"Look, just come with me, I'm not discussing it here," you say, hands on your hips.

He sighs. "Fine." You quickly grab your coat and things and you leave the lab. People stare at you, and you stare back. Nick looks down at the ground, clearly uncomfortable.

You go to the usual place and neither of you say a word on the way. You almost give him your coat to hang up, but that was the old times, and you hang it up yourself. You both order, and sit down in a small booth. You don't make any attempt to make conversation, even though it was you who brought you both here. Nick sighs, and changes his position several times.   
"Sara," he says pointedly, "I thought we came here to talk."

"I need coffee first," you say.

You return to gazing out the window, trying to work out what to say. Eventually the food comes.

"Your coffee's here," he says bluntly, "You can start talking."   
You turn and look at him. "I don't like being alienated by my colleagues."

He returns my stare. "I don't like being treated like something on the bottom of your shoe," he says in reply.

"I never treated you like that," you say, "I just turned you down."

"Then why did you make such a big deal about it?" he asks in frustration.

"I didn't, you did," you say.

"I didn't do anything," he retorts.

"We've been through this before," you say, "you're the one who tried to kiss me. You're the one who asked me why I refused your advances. You're the one who avoided me. All I didn't do was kiss you or tell you why I didn't. Yet," you say, warming up to your argument, "you ask me why I made a big deal over it. Because you can't hide your feelings, you've gained everyone else's sympathy and turned me into the enemy. You've made it bigger than it really is."

"But why? Can't you just answer this one question?" he asks.  
You turn away. "I'll answer it one condition," you reply, "You have to answer my question afterwards."  
"Okay," he agrees.

You sigh and rearrange yourself on the chair. "I didn't want to lose the friendship we had built," you say quietly, "And by kissing me, you abused the trust that I had in you. Nick, you of all people should know how hard it is for me to trust anyone."

You look at him.

Then he frowns, "But, isn't that what you wanted Sara? Something more than friendship?" he asks. "Everything you said, everything you did told me that you wanted us to be more than friends. So I went that extra step, and you blame me." He shakes his head. "I don't know Sara, I really don't know. I just think it's not all my fault. Action and reaction. Cause and consequence."

"Are you telling me some of it's my fault?" you ask, "that I led you on?"

"Well," Nick says.

"Nick, please, just think about this one thing. If we had gone any further, and then decided it wouldn't work between us, where would we have been?" you ask.

You swirl your coffee and look out the window, waiting for his answer.

"Sara?" Nick says, "You know where we would have been? We would have been right here. Like now. Uncomfortable and awkward. With one of us ready to hand in our resignation."

You look at him, shocked.

"No, it's not me," he adds.

"What?" you ask. "I wouldn't do that," you lie, thinking of that envelope in your coat.

"Really?" he asks.

And you think. Maybe Nick saw you put that white envelope back in your coat earlier, somehow knowing what was inside. No, you think. Nick just knows these things. Nick knows you.

"Sara?" he asks tiredly.

"Yeah?" you reply.

"Can we just forget all about this? It's all out of control. One kiss and BAM!" he hits the table. "Can't we just go back to how it was before?" he asks.

You want that so much. You would give anything to have everything as it was before. But life isn't like that. Time doesn't go backwards.

"I can forgive you, but I won't forget," you say, "I wish I could though."

"I can do that," Nick says. "Shall we get back to work?"  
You nod, and you both get up. You refuse Nick's offer to pay for you. He hands you your coat and opens the door for you.

You take out the white envelope and wordlessly hand it to him.

He looks at it, questioning.

You nod, hands in your pockets. He rips it in two and puts it in the nearest bin.

He links his arm through yours.

You shake your head.

He sighs, and unlinks his arm. Forgive, but not forget.


	5. Isolated

One day you're sitting down with the team at breakfast. As is the normal now, Nick leaves early, giving some excuse.

Catherine, Warrick and Greg exchange glances. Brass looks up from his conversation with Grissom to see Nick's back going out the door. He looks at his watch.

"I'd better get going to," he says.

Grissom looks at his watch too.

"Yeah, me too," he adds.

They leave money on the table for their meals, and leave together.

Catherine, Warrick and Greg turn their eyes back to you.

"What?" you ask defensively.

"Sara," Catherine says, "What are you playing at?"

Now you're confused. "What do you mean?" you say.

Her voice is sharp. "I think you know what I'm talking about," she says.

"Yeah," Warrick says, "What's going on with you and Nick?"

"Nothing!" you exclaim, "It's what he's done to me!"

"But what did you do to start it?" Greg asks. "I know Nick," he says, "and this isn't like him at all. He's just a ghost of who he was."

"I didn't do anything, he started it!" you say angrily, realising too late how childish you sound. "Besides," you add, "It's none of your business." You pack up your things, drop some money on the table, and storm out of the diner.

You come to work that evening and hunt out Nick as soon as you get there. You find him in the staff room, drinking coffee.

"What you do you think you're doing, telling the others about everything?" you ask him.

He looks up in surprise.

"Why have you got the others to back you up? You're an adult, you can stand up for yourself!" you say spitefully.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, standing up to face you.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" you say, getting angrier, "They were asking me this morning what I'd done to you. What I'd done to you?" you ask, "It's not what I've done to you, it's what you've done to me!"

"I didn't do anything," he says, acting confused.

"Really?" you challenge him. "Have you blocked out that morning when you tried to kiss me, and I refused? Have you blocked out the morning when you asked me why I refused you, and me not telling you why?"

"Sara," he pleads, "please, calm down."

You shake your head. "Trying to ignore the question?" you ask nastily.

"No, but Sara…" he argues.

"Nick," you exclaim. "Why did you tell them? It's none of their business!"

He looks at me sadly. "I didn't say anything to anyone Sara," he whispers.

You blink. You should have realised that, but you let the anger get the better of you. You see everyone standing outside the staffroom, their mouths open. They see you looking at them, and they all hurry back to work.

Now everyone's avoiding you, instead of just Nick. You're defiant, and still look at everyone in the eye, until they hang their heads or look away. It's nice not being pestered all the time and knowing that wherever you go it'll be quiet, because everyone will leave if you come in. But after a while, it starts to get a bit lonely. You can't bear to admit it at first; you're too full of pride. You start wanting someone to talk to, not about anything serious, just everyday events. You know you're not in the wrong, but for the others to accept you again, you'll have to say that you were, and your pride won't let you do that.

One morning you're staring at a sheet, just a plain white cotton bed sheet, trying to look for anything out of the ordinary.You take off your gloves and rub your eyes. Suddenly you remember it's Wednesday. Wednesday means team breakfast. You look around. Everyone's left already-and nobody's told you to hurry up, that you'll be late again. You pack your stuff up and walk to the diner. When you get there you see them all through the window sitting at a table, laughing, and enjoying themselves. Nick looks the best you've seen him in a while. He looks… well… normal. You go in, and don't bother to order. You're not hungry. You walk up to the table where they're sitting. They look up.

"Oh, hey Sara," Warrick says. "I thought someone reminded you."

You shake your head, and wait for someone to budge along, to make room for you. But no-one does. You sigh, and bring over a chair to squeeze at one end.

"You got any food?" Catherine asks.

"Uh uh," you say, "I'm not hungry."

"Don't get hungry and ask for any of mine later then," she replies curtly, and returns to her converstion with Nick

You lean back into your chair. The talk is less passionate now that you've arrived, less exciting. No one's laughing, no one's having fun. Least of all you. You try to join in some conversations, but no one really responds to you. You sigh, and lean back into your chair. As soon as you think it's polite to do so, you leave. No one will have noticed, you think bitterly to yourself. And if they did, they'll be the happier for it.

You scuff your feet as you trudge your way back to your car. They didn't remind you to come to the team breakfast, whereas a few months ago they were teasing you about being late. They didn't make room for you to sit down, whereas they used to squish up for you. Catherine didn't care you weren't eating, when a few months ago she would have been force-feeding you. After you got there the conversation lost its enthusiasm, but it used to get better after you arrived.

You get into your car and drive home.

The next week is the same. Everyone's still avoiding you. Some have taken to frowning you pass by them. This week you decide to be on time to the team breakfast. But apart from having a seat, everything is exactly the same. Stunted conversation. You leave early. You can't take it anymore.

Each night you go to work, and set about doing your job. You don't let the others distract you and you don't take many breaks- you want to avoid everyone as much as possible. The next Wednesday you see them leaving, laughing and smiling. You sigh, and lean back into your chair. It's got to change, you tell yourself. You can't be like this forever. Alienated by your colleagues, who used to be your friends. Your only friends. You can't be friendless forever. Even Grissom, the man who convinced you to move to Vegas, hasn't said anything. Man, you think, why did I even bother.


	6. White Envelope

The white envelope sits in your locker, glaring at you. You stand at your locker door, and slowly take it out and hold it in your hands, to give to Grissom. "I can't lose one of my best CSI's," you can imagine him saying. You sigh, and lean against the door. You look out through the window in the door into the lab. You spy Nick coming to the door, and hurriedly put the envelope back in your pocket. He's the last person you want knowing. But it's the perfect opportunity for you to ask him what's going on.

"Hi," you say.

"Hey," he says stiffly.

"Nick," you say.

"What?" he asks.

You take a deep breath. "I want to sort this out," you say.

"Sort what out?" he asks.

"Look, just come with me, I'm not discussing it here," you say, hands on your hips.

He sighs. "Fine."

You quickly grab your coat and things and you leave the lab. People stare at you, and you stare back. Nick looks down at the ground, clearly uncomfortable.

You go to the usual place and neither of you say a word on the way. You almost give him your coat to hang up, but that was the old times, and you hang it up yourself. You both order, and sit down in a small booth. You don't make any attempt to make conversation, even though it was you who brought you both here.

Nick sighs, and changes his position several times. "Sara," he says pointedly, "I thought we came here to talk."

"I need coffee first," you say.

You return to gazing out the window, trying to work out what to say. Eventually the food comes.

"Your coffee's here," he says bluntly, "You can start talking."

You turn and look at him. "I don't like being alienated by my colleagues."

He returns my stare. "I don't like being treated like something on the bottom of your shoe," he says in reply.

"I never treated you like that," you say, "I just turned you down."

"Then why did you make such a big deal about it?" he asks in frustration.

"I didn't, you did," you say.

"I didn't do anything," he retorts.

"We've been through this before," you say, "you're the one who tried to kiss me. You're the one who asked me why I refused your advances. You're the one who avoided me. All I didn't do was kiss you or tell you why I didn't. Yet," you say, warming up to your argument, "you ask me why I made a big deal over it. Because you can't hide your feelings, you've gained everyone else's sympathy and turned me into the enemy. You've made it bigger than it really is."

"But why? Can't you just answer this one question?" he asks.

You turn away. "I'll answer it one condition," you reply, "You have to answer my question afterwards."

"Okay," he agrees.

You sigh and rearrange yourself on the chair. "I didn't want to lose the friendship we had built," you say quietly, "And by kissing me, you abused the trust that I had in you. Nick, you of all people should know how hard it is for me to trust anyone."

You look at him.

Then he frowns, "But, isn't that what you wanted Sara? Something more than friendship?" he asks. "Everything you said, everything you did told me that you wanted us to be more than friends. So I went that extra step, and you blame me." He shakes his head. "I don't know Sara, I really don't know. I just think it's not all my fault. Action and reaction. Cause and consequence."

"Are you telling me some of it's my fault?" you ask, "that I led you on?"

"Well," Nick says.

"Nick, please, just think about this one thing. If we had gone any further, and then decided it wouldn't work between us, where would we have been?" you ask.

You swirl your coffee and look out the window, waiting for his answer.

"Sara?" Nick says, "You know where we would have been? We would have been right here. Like now. Uncomfortable and awkward. With one of us ready to hand in our resignation."

You look at him, shocked.

"No, it's not me," he adds.

"What?" you ask. "I wouldn't do that," you lie, thinking of that envelope in your coat.

"Really?" he asks.

And you think. Maybe Nick saw you put that white envelope back in your coat earlier, somehow knowing what was inside. No, you think. Nick just knows these things. Nick knows you.

"Sara?" he asks tiredly.

"Yeah?" you reply.

"Can we just forget all about this? It's all out of control. One kiss and BAM!" he hits the table. "Can't we just go back to how it was before?" he asks.

You want that so much. You would give anything to have everything as it was before. But life isn't like that. Time doesn't go backwards.

"I can forgive you, but I won't forget," you say, "I wish I could though."

"I can do that," Nick says. "Shall we get back to work?"

You nod, and you both get up. You refuse Nick's offer to pay for you. He hands you your coat and opens the door for you.

You take out the white envelope and wordlessly hand it to him.

He looks at it, questioning.

You nod, hands in your pockets. He rips it in two and puts it in the nearest bin.

He links his arm through yours.

You shake your head.

He sighs, and unlinks his arm.

Forgive, but not forget.


End file.
